Pure Luck
by dancing kokoro
Summary: All I wanted was to return the orange-haired boy's pencil, but now I'm in a fantasy world following spirit detectives, hoping that I won't get killed. All I wanted to do was be a nice person, and tour Tokyo while eating another crepe...or two. OC
1. Chapter 1

I sat down irritably, and accidently shoved the coat next to me on the ground. It was quite hideous. Who wears a bright orange and blue plaid coat with those fake fur hoods that only ridiculously beautiful women could pull off, while the other wanabees looked like they were trying to be ghetto?

And no, I wasn't being mean at all. Only being honest…

Okay, so sue me if I'm being slightly mean, but it's not like I was ever going to say it _out loud_. I'm a little classy at least.

And a little polite. My mama taught me manners after all.

That being so I sent an apologetic smile to the girl-who's-trying-to-look-from-the-hood' while picking up her coat.

After all it's not her coat's fault that this stupid plane is delayed, or late, or whatever the people who work here at the airport said. I couldn't concentrate on what they were saying due to their smiles, which I don't blame them for. I read a book written by a stewardess once, a romantic comedy fiction type of book (of course), where she entwined her experiences in the story of how at the airport they had to take classes on how to smile and greet the people and stuff. And boy did I now feel bad for them. I mean, people can be such _bitches_ at airports. Sure, of course I'd be cranky if I was coming from a 14 hour flight from hell, but don't be mean to those nice people who are forced to smile, and not accessorize, or wear non-scary makeup. Poor kids.

I looked down at my cell phone- one of my favorite possessions as it counted as a wristwatch, communication, a mirror if you got good light, and the way out of any awkward situation- and looked at the time. Hmm…three minutes had past. Sheesh.

"_Attention flyers, flight 248 to Japan has now arrived and is ready to be boarded. Attention. Flight 248 to Japan is ready to be boarded."_

I feel like my life is complete with those words.

Don't mind me. I can wait- trust I can be patient. Once while my dad was just 'making a quick stop at the grocery store', I had waited an hour and twelve minutes in the car, and when my dad came back all he had was bananas. Thanks dad.

So, moving on, I just hate waiting at airports, and the thought of JAPAN. NIHON. JAPAN. That's right kids, say it with me. JAPAN. Okay, don't say it with me. Just think it because if you say it out loud, like some stranger next to me with a giant plush of some anime I don't know, wearing a cape and I believe a hat that looks like the one that Ash Ketchum wears in Pokemon (which I will not lie, I do want to steal) …I will judge you. No offense…well, okay, a little offense is necessary.

Okay, now, why am I going to Japan?

It might surprise you that I'm going to study abroad. Yeah, I'm actually smart- surprisingly…okay, not _smart smart_, but enough to be slightly above average. Like a sliver above. It's because I'm lazy, but hey, who isn't?

I know I'm a couple of weeks early for the semester, but I want to get the feel of the city, and how to navigate through it because I can get hopelessly loss, and it's horribly embarrassing.

I stand up finally, while mentally glaring at the hideous coat that's still next to me I wait in line behind the billions of people waiting to get on the plane. As I finally make it the front of the line and hand my passport to the poor smiling lady at the small desk, I feel someone tap my shoulder.

Turning to the left I see a pretty stewardess.

Smiling my 'social smile' I simply say, "Yes?"

Her smile becomes more natural from my friendly response (_You're_ _welcome you poor, poor woman!)_ and she says, "Ma'am, there's room in first class if you'd like to upgrade your ticket with no expense."

I love her.

This is why I always dress nice, and classy. With my stylish short sleeve gray dress that's just above the knees, matching boots, black tights, and Coach clutch- I am a stylist's dream come true. Not that I'm bragging or anything…I just honestly have good taste.

Smiling my 'more than pleased smile', whereas I am ecstatic, I say, "I would love to."

And that's how my flight to JAPAN NIHON JAPAN would be.

Wonderful. First-freaking-class wonderful.


	2. Chapter 2

The flight went smoothly.

Well, I assume it went smoothly considering less than two hours in I was asleep as if someone knocked me out. I figured having a 14+ flight that I should just stay up the night before and sleep as much as I wanted to on the plane. Which I did happily in the comfortable first class seats.

Unfortunately no cute guys or famous people up there, though I did meet some business men who were then charmed by me, and they happily gave their business cards away I daintily fell asleep.

Yeah, I'm such an actress, but hey, if you want to be a Business major, you got to make contacts somehow, and as I normally sleep- legs and arms everywhere, drool seeping out like a flood, lying upside down on my bed- kind of doesn't make a very good impression on people, I've learned to sleep 'beautifully'. Beautifully sleeping is what actors and actresses do in the movies. Laying perfectly on your back, eyes closed so that your lashes will so long and perfect, lips closed in an alluring way, hair attractively in curls surrounding your head like a halo.. you get the idea- it's kind of like looking angelic.

And no, it's not the most comfortable position, hence why _I know_ it's not possible to actually sleep like that, but I've never been around a person that I can comfortably sleep like me.

So, the plane has landed, and the nice stewardess has waked me up with such gentleness that if I could tip her, I would so tip her 30% instead of 20%.

Since I only have my carryon, a cute red wheeling bag, I don't have to scramble to the baggage claim. All my other stuff should have been shipped here, as I have an apartment and not a dorm, so I'm good. Going through customs was brief and simple, and behold, here I am outside the airport, smelling the beautiful Japan air.

I kind of miss the airport behind me already. Narita Airport is certainly not like O'Hare's. There was even a record store inside there!

However, now I'll have to pay a sad amount to get to Tokyo… As my eyes see what's obviously an American family on vacation, I frown as they try to read the signs, and mentally congratulating myself on taking Japanese in high school and college. I don't know how I'd ever get by here in Japan where most things where in katakana1, hiragana2 kanji3 without being able to read them, or even know how to communicate with anyone.

Feeling sympathetic, I head towards the family and help them get a cab, tell the cab driver where they want to go, teach and write down a few simple phrases (insert place's name _wa doko desuka__4_was their favorite), and leave with a happy heart.

I figure if I'm stranded in some country that someone else would do the same thing for me…hopefully. And I mentally cross my fingers in hope.

I guess being stylish, not being Japanese, and speaking almost fluent Japanese (I had my trusty pocket dictionary in my purse for a reason) is the top reasons why I'm getting these stares as I walk through Tokyo. Granted, I'm not being as obsessively stared at like that blonde a couple blocks ahead of me is. She looks like a spokes model of what 'Americans should look like'.

She's tall, maybe 5' 7" without heels, long curly platinum blonde hair, a micro mini skirt, and tank top with a jeans jacket draped on, added on to three inches of black stilettos.

She's a little hoochy, if I may think to myself. But, wow, can she strut in those heels. I'm a little jealous of that.

Myself, on the other hand, I do not look American at all, but you can tell straight off that I must come from America from my mannerisms, if not from my accent. I'm a proud half Filipino, half Indian…except for the fact that I don't speak a sentence of either heritage, but I speak Japanese.

It's a sad, true story. Thanks parents for thinking I wouldn't be able to grasp English if I learned another language beforehand.

It would have been so useful (and cool) if I could speak _four _languages!

Well, I can honestly say that I'm falling in love Tokyo. I love the bustle of the city, and the billboards, and the people everywhere.

Yeah, this is nice.

Walking along the some random street I spot a crepe vendor, and reward myself for being in Japan with a chocolate and banana crepe.

Yeah, this is _really _nice.

As I start to continue to walk, happily with my crepe, I notice a strange orange haired kid yell loudly into.. a makeup compact?!... and start to walk speedily away.

Curiously looking, I mean I've never seen such a weird hairdo, I notice as an object fall out of his pocket. Glancing down I notice a pencil with different colored kittens on it.

Maybe he's gay, or maybe it's his girlfriend's or a gift? But even so, I would hate to lose any of my pencils, as this on looks brand new.

Clutching the pencil, I've decided my mission.

"Excuse me! Excuse me! You've dropped something, sir!"

I do not look dignified, running down the streets looking for the orange boy. I have the worst endurance ever, and by two and half blocks, I'm completely huffing and regretting eating the crepe goodness.

Hey, if I knew I'd be sprinting (okay, sprinting is not the correct term for whatever I was doing) I wouldn't have eaten it right away.

Breathing against a wall I spot the orange hair kid half a block away.

Regaining my breath I run after him as he turns into an alley way.

"Hey, excuse me, you dro-huuh-

And before I know it, my eyes widen, my breath is once again gone as I fall into black abyss.

Apparently there's no floor in this particular alley.

I open my mouth to scream, to do _anything_, but the ground is approaching quicker than I thought as I seemingly fall through the sky.

Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, BREATHE, BREATHE, BREATHE- There''tbelieveI'

As I see the ground approaching, I figure I would not like to _see_ my demise and close my eyes…and land on something surprisingly soft-ish and firm.

"Herm?"

Very intelligent, Michelle, nice word that doesn't even exist in any dictionary, except maybe , but that means nothing, except why am I so rational when technically I should be a pancake?!

I look down at what saved me, and see the orange kid face planted in the ground.

I jump off, wondering if he sacrificed his life to save me, except he twitched…violently for awhile…before calmly sitting up and rubbing his face which was turning an impressive color that looked like my favorite red lipstick.

He looked confused, and then looked at me (not so intelligently, I thought), and in a rather gruff, but whining voice practically screamed, "Who are you?!"

"Um, you dropped this, and I was returning it?" I responded. "Well, where are we?"

I glanced curiously at the sky which was had a black/purple thing going on, and tiny sparks of lightening mixing it up. No trees were in sight, but large gray tree roots where scattered around. There wasn't a building in near site, but if I squint my eyes, I could make out an outline of a castle in the distance.

He greedily took the pencil from my offered hand.

"I can't believe I almost lost this! Thanks so much!" He gushed out while caressing the pencil. "We're in Demon World girlie!"

Two thoughts: first, do I look like the type that wants to be called girlie?

Second, I guess I'm not in Tokyo anymore, Toto, whom I named the strange orange boy.

Boy, if this is happening on my first day in Japan, what will happen in a week?

* * *

1_-Taken from dictionary dot come for clearer, easier to understand definitions._

The square-formed Japanese kana syllabary. Katakana is mostly used to write foreign names, foreign words, and loan words as well as many onomatopeia, plant and animal names.

2 The cursive formed Japanese kana syllabary. Hiragana is mostly used for grammatical particles, verb-inflection, and Japanese words which are not written in kanji or which are too difficult for an educated person to read or write in kanji. Hiragana are also used for furigana.

3 in Japanese writing, characters adapted from Chinese characters and usually employed for writing nouns, verb roots, adjectives, and other important words. The Japanese affixes for verb tenses, prepositions, and other grammatical markers, which do not exist in Chinese, are indicated by hiragana symbols written beside the kanji. The pronunciation of kanji symbols may be indicated as well by hiragana signs.

4 Translation: Where is (insert place's name)?


	3. Chapter 3

"So, hum." Eloquent, aren't I. "Let me get this straight," I say while sitting Indian style on the ground. The orange haired kid, named Kuwabara, whom I still think is gay, sits across from me.

"There are apparently three worlds in existence: Spirit World, Human World and Demon World. Is that right so far?"

He gives me a vigorous nod in response.

"And that alley that I followed you into was actually a portal to Demon World."

I got another nod.

"And the reason you're in Demon World is because you're some fancy detective with _spirit_ powers who is going to save Human World, for about the eighteenth time."

Another round of nods.

Gosh, I hope his head doesn't fall off his neck with all the exercise he's doing.

"Well, that's all nice and dandy, but how do _I_ get out of here."

I wish I could honestly hope that this guy needs go to a mental hospital, but I can't help but believe him. I don't want to believe him. I honestly don't want to believe him, but how can I not?

I glance up again, seeing the purple clouds rolling violently in the black sky. Lightning bolts of various sizes dance around in the clouds, crashing and mixing together.

I pinch myself once again.

Ouch.

I press my nails inside my palm.

Ouch. And now I have indent marks. Nice.

I know this is real. I know that I have to believe gay boy. How can I not?

I close my eyes briefly.

It's terrifying here.

I can smell blood everywhere.

The distinct smell of the copper liquid is everywhere. I can feel it. I can practically taste it in my throat. Sliding down in pint sizes, oozing out of my pores, gosh, I'm going to throw up soon if I don't get out-

"I don't think I can…"

The hesitant voice efficiently distracts me from turning my gagging into throwing up.

"What. What do you mean that you can't get me back to Tokyo?"

The steel in my voice surprises both of us, though I hope my reaction wasn't noticed.

He mumbles, and he shies away from me slightly, but I catch his words as clearly as rain.

"Well, I mean, Botan opened up the portal and she can't open it again until we've finished our duty here, ya know? So you're either gonna have ta come with us to defeat the bad guys, which should be completely easy because of my awesome skills, or you can stay here…but I don't know how safe you'll be here…yeah…"

Oh. My. Gosh.

My life is going to be in this orange pansy's hands?!

Wait a minute. 'WE'?! What does he mean by we?

"What do you mean by 'we'?"

He chuckles nervously and scratches his neck. "Well, my team of course! No spirit detective goes on a mission without his team!"

Great. More weird pansies. I'm not being racist or anything. A lot of my cousins and friends are into the whole same sex thing, but this guy just rubs me off in the wrong way. And I wonder what kind of people could be on his team.

Wait a minute, _his_ team.

I eye Kuwabara again. His jeans lightly snug, but loose enough to allow movement. The red muscle tee-shirt underneath his matching jean jacket was also loose, but there was definitely a lot of muscle mass on his body.

Unfortunately the whole look was highly dampened by the look of his face and the style of his hair.

It clicked suddenly. He looks like a wannabe gangster!

I sigh. The sooner he gets done with his 'mission', the sooner I get back to Tokyo and back to my average, wonderful life.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?"

He laughs. Too loudly and too in my ear.

Shit. I'm entrusting my life in this guy.

Fuck my life.

* * *

I feel like I've walking for hours, when it's been probably only thirty minutes, but keeping up with this guy's stride seems impossible.

First off all, he's freaking tall, so his legs seem like they're forever!

And every stride he makes, I have to make two or three to match his one. And I happen to be a slow walker. And proud. Except for right now.

Oh please, please. It seems like he's not stopping anytime soon. And I'm breathing heavily, but slyly hiding it by yawning every five minutes.

Yeah, I'm good.

He doesn't look out of breath at all! It's not fair!

"I sense my friends nearby. We're close!"

Sense?! Like spider senses? What kind of comic book world have I fallen into… wow, literally.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!

My head is pounding. The scent of blood is getting stronger. Wherever the hell we're going…I don't think I'm going to enjoy it. Does this guy not smell it?

Hold it.

I blink rapidly wondering if I really do see a blob of something coming in our direction.

"Hey, Kuwabara, what is that?"

I nod my head in the direction of the approaching mass.

His eyes widen, and his body tenses.

Crap, that wasn't the reaction I was hoping for.

He stands in front of me and holds his hands like he's clutching something invisible.

"Stand behind me, I'm going to hopefully drive them off."

HOPEFULLY?!

"We'll just have to stall until my buddies get here."

WE?!

I stand behind him terrified, until that is he lets out a grunt and distracts me from whateverthehell is coming to kill us.

"SPIRIT SWORD!"

Woah. Pure orange light come out of his _hands_ cackling and twisting to what I imagine thunder would if one caught it. He holds it like I would hold a bat, but hey, whatever works for him.

So my respect for him goes up two points for the impressive light display. An extra ten points if we survive this.

The black mass is approaching closer, and finally I can hear the buzzing.

It's grating- like the sound of thousands of bees together, buzzing and causing a nuisance.

I finally see the enemy and they actually are _like bees_. Oh, except for the whole red eyes, black fur coats, oh, and I almost forgot- sharp canine teeth tinted with dried blood open wide for a taste of us.

And if I wasn't scared shitless, I am now.

Kuwabara slightly shaking form doesn't really give me any confidence either.

Dear Life, You really hate me, don't you? Well, I hate you, too. Sincerely, Me.

The flesh eating bugs, I'm assuming they eat flesh since they're coming at us, are about fifty feet ahead of us, which unfortunately is _not_ that far.

I close my eyes, and crutch behind Kuwabara.

Thank you very much; I'd rather not see my own demise.

"SPIRIT GUN!"

That is not Kuwabara's voice.

Opening one eye, I peek behind Kuwabara's legs and see the most beautiful sight ever.

A blue light shoots from the left side and encompasses the black bugs. The light swallows the whole and explodes in what I can only compare to fireworks. Like a ball of light compressing itself and shooting outwards, and destroying all those foul things.

A breeze shoots out from the blue explosion, and the only sign that what I saw wasn't a dream was the smoke and bits of the black bugs falling to the ground.

It was gross, in a very reassuring way.

"Sheesh Kuwabara, do I always have to end up saving your ass? And who's the chick?"

The voice comes through the smoke, and I stand up as I see a boy, no a man, about the same age around me and Kuwabara.

He's much different than Kuwabara, the only thing similar is the whole 'gangster feel' the both of them are trying to pull off, but where Kuwabara gives me the slight creeps, this guy's vibes scream confidence.

His stance is cocky. Legs are in a stance, one arm is straight to the side, while the other one is slightly bent with the index finger pointing up and… smoking?! Is his hand on fire?!

* * *

Hello to readers and curious bystanders!

First off, I would like to thank you all for being curious enough to read my meager three chapters. Special thanks will of course go to my current reviewers:

TwilightFever-FutureCullen, Graphospasm, and Alice

and thanks also for all the people who put my story on their story alerts. I appreciate that people are actually interested in the story.

Obviously the plot hasn't been shown yet, but all in good times. I figure that it'll worm itself in soon, but I don't want to abruptly thrust it in randomly.

Reviews are of course loved (they actually make my day when I see the alert of a review), but I also enjoy the email of a story alert, too.

I'm working on the next chapter, along with a one-shot, so until next time. Ja.

dancing kokoro


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